Town Portal
by The Karlminion
Summary: A little fling about what happens when all goes wrong... and how things just might begin to mend themselves.
1. Prologue

_I do not own ka, nor do I own anything associated with Diablo. Blizzard owns that, and Stephen King owns ka. Got it?_

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**_Town Portal  
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You boot up your computer, and sit back to wait for Microsoft's creation to get through playing with itself.

It is done. So you log on, insert your D2: LoD disc, and wait for _it_ to stop playing with itself. For you are impatient today; very impatient. One of your friends has finally gotten _Lord of Destruction_, and he's logging on for his first foray into to the world of Expansion And you're going to be there to guide him.

Finally, it's ready! You get on, look for him, and find he's registered as an Expansion Character, but he isn't on. Oh well, you think, I'll just put him on my buddy list, and play a game of my own.

So you do. You're in Act II, happily bashing away with your Barbarian at all those Dung Beetles, when this retard god-player Necromancer logs on, goes hostile, and starts running at you! You get away for a bit, having put some of your points into increasing your running speed and stamina. The retard, despite his "godhood," falls behind, and you run onward. Idiot, you think, he hasn't put too much into his constitution.

You stop and try to cast a town portal. You hear the sound, but nothing happens! You start to panic; this can't happen! You've worked so hard, so long…

This line of thought is abruptly cut off by the agonized scream of your Barbarian as some retard god-player Sorceress logs in and casts Inferno at you. Naturally, you are incinerated immediately.

You stare, in shock. Unable to fathom what has just happened. Then, disgusted, you unplug the computer out of spite, and turn to go off and sulk.

You are stopped by the sight of a swirling blue-and-black… something. Whatever it is, it looks a lot like a… town portal?

No!!, your reeling mind screams. It's not real!!! While it does so, something pulls you forward, inexorably. You have time to think of one word, ka, before you are engulfed in a blue light…


	2. Chapter One

_You might be grossed out by the end of this thing, but don't worry; things'll turn out. And I want it known that I want a Chocolate Chip cookie for my efforts. Got that, MistressFanGirl?_

We all know who owns Diablo 2. So I won't go over it, ok?

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**_Town Portal Cht. 1  
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The portal whirls you through its blue depths, and you have time to think, Hey, this is taking too long, when the blue light abruptly goes out, and you are standing in the middle of some kind of palisade. Why, you think, this is the Rogue Encampment! What am I?

You look down, and are confounded for some moments. Your left leg is thin, and covered in black stuff and thin mail. Your other leg is strong, yet bare except for a red leather boot on the foot. Your hip is small, with a thin gold belt and a swatch of green material hanging down.

Your chest is massive, wider than a beer keg. Straps and rings criss-cross it. Finally, your arms bear a green fabric, not like the stuff hanging from your waist; that is silky and fine, while this is thick, woolen, itchy. You bear no arms.

You are, you realize, a Necralimazari-eress. Then you think, Hey, I'm not an Expansion Character. So you close your eyes, and a familiar menu floats before your eyes. You move the cursor-thing to 'Save & Quit', and blackness overtakes you.

Your disembodied mind awakens suddenly, and the Diablo 2 Exp. Character Selection Screen floats before you. You see yourself, in all your messed up and twisted glory, as the only character. You move the cursor-thing to it, and make it an Expansion Character. Then the blackness engulfs you again.

You are back in the encampment. You feel animal furs down your back, and now you have Katars in your hands. Now, you realize, you are a Necrorcerarialimazassuid. You fervently hope no one sees your mangled form.

Suddenly, you wonder what gender you are. Your waist is that of a Sorceress, but then again, there are more male classes than female classes to chose from. But your curiosity burns at you. So you run over to one of the tents. You crouch behind a pile of boxes within the tent. Slowly, you lift up the swatch of silky green stuff…


	3. Chapter Two

_We're getting serious here; ka is having its way. But 'your' conflict is nearing a resolution here, so have no fear._

_By the way, if anyone was wondering, this is being written in the second person._

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**_Town Portal Cht. 2_**  
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You lift up the flap… and you see nothing. You are utterly sexless. Oh, the horror! you think. Oh well.

You drop it back down and stand up. You exit the tent and prepare to explore the Encampment more fully, when a voice interrupts you. "Ah, another one. People like yourself have been popping up lately. And they all end up dead, because they don't listen to me. Will you listen?" The voice comes from an old woman with purple hair. You know her name; Akara, the High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye.

You try to respond, but you cannot. Your voice is looked within your throat. Akara notices that, and sighs. "You are just like the others. Unable to speak because your body cannot decide on a voice. A pity, really; I could learn more about this if you could only pay attention to my words, and thus reach a resolution. I beg you; please listen to me. And I will be able to help you."

You consider her words, but the answer seems obvious; if she can help you, why not help her? So, you nod your assent, and she smiles and leads you to her tent. There, you sit on a log while she begins to speak.

"I suspect that your condition is the result of the gods' meddling. They have tried to send us a savior, but they cannot get it right. So it is up to us to fix their mistakes. Damn gods…

"But I digress. I believe that if you place preference to one aspect of your being over the others, the rest will disappear, and your resolution will be reached. At least, this is how I hope it is.

"And I have the means of starting this process. Come over here." She walks towards a rack with various staves and other magical implements. But near the bottom are some unusual items; two strange helms, one made of hawk feathers, the other out of a strange skull. A disgusting preserved head. A bow, crafted only for those that are expert in using them. A shiny metal shield, small and light, yet surrounded by an aura of holiness and health. A small wand with a glass orb atop it. A simple blade affixed to a strap, made for attaching to the wrist.

"These items are specialized implements, for certain groups of people. Drop the weapons you bear now, and take up one of these." You consider for a moment, then you drop the wrist blades and reach out to pick up a short staff from the rack above. A tingling in your body, and you feel some burden you hadn't noticed lighten itself.

You turn back to her, and she nods. "Good choice, my friend. Now, there is cave in the wilderness, where monsters are massing. I fear they mean to assault this camp, and until Kashya and her Rogues return from the Burial Grounds, we are vulnerable.

"But you are strong, warrior from another dimension. Please help us, and I will do my best to help you resolve your conflict."

You nod again, then turn towards the gate, ready to deal with whatever you will find…


	4. Chapter Three

_**Town Portal Cht. 3**_

You walk across the bridge, firmly gripping your staff. When you stop, and think, Hey, what kind of abilities do I have?

So you stop, and close your eyes. The familiar screen appears, and you go to the skill tree option. And what comes up is very confusing; hellish, even.

Eighteen trees are jockeying for position. One gets to the top, but then it flickers and is forced back down, to be replaced by another. Merely looking at it is giving you a headache. I've got to stop this! you scream to yourself. Or else I'll tear myself apart!

You bring up the little mental cursor, and you wait for the Sorceress fire magic set to come up. When it does, you hurriedly lash out and click on it. It stops, and stays there, clear and visible. Another weight rolls off your shoulders.

The ice tree comes up, and you click again. It solidifies, and your shoulders lighten up yet again. The lightning set shows… and you pause. You remember a thought you had to yourself a long time ago; What if I could mix up the skill trees, and make my own Diablo II Character? You even wrote it down; a Sorceress, born in Harrogath. She was very good with fire and ice, but she couldn't even summon the smallest spark of lightning. That was alright, though, since she was strong, like her Barbarian cousins. She may not have had the combat training, but she could still fight with the semi-best of them. Her name: Zelda.

You don't know why you named her Zelda; it just sounded right. Either that or you were still celebrating over finally having beaten _The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time Master Quest_. One or the other.

So you let the lightning tree sink down, and wait for the tree that contains the Barbarian weapon masteries, and the resilience feats. It comes, and you click…

And darkness overcomes you. You feel the flying sensation of transport, and some seconds later, light and sensation return to you. You are in the middle of a huge hall, and you have a vague sense of titanic figures lurking beyond the shadows;

A slithering to your left, and a faint whisper. The slithering subsides. You look over and get a sense of two figures surrounded by a faint green light; one is an impossibly tall, thin human, and the other seems to be a lizard of some sort. Rathma and Trang' Oul, some inner voice tells you.

You look in another direction, and see more tall human shapes, each with separate auras; fire, light, ice, and electricity. The Amazonian deities, the voice says.

Another direction, and your eyes are greeted by two shapes. You get the sense of great physical power from one, and the other gives off a calming aura. But beneath it is a great rage, sleeping deep. Woe be to the one who could make enough noise to bestir that rage. Bul' Kathos and Fialca Gear, the voice says.

You look in yet another direction, and you see, not a god-like figure, but a man, walking towards you. He is bearded, with hair to his shoulders. He wears a simple white robe, with plain sandals and a belt of rope. He looks familiar to you, but you cannot place it. The voice helps you; the Zakarum Emissary, what would be the White Christ in your world.

The man stops before you and holds out his hands. You see scars there, deep scars. You look at his face, and it is kind, benevolent. Yet there is also a tinge of worry, of fear. Then he speaks.

"You are trying to mix things up, Hero. We can't let you do that, not without validation. Prove that it can work, and we might let you." His voice is calm, soothing. Yet there, too, fear and worry can be sensed.

No problem, you think, I'll tell them about Zelda. So you do.

At the end, the fear had gone out of the Emissary. "Very well. But you must still pass the test given to you by Akara. Away with you, now." Once again, the flying sensation of transport overcomes you…

_(A/N- If I misspelled the gods' names, get over it.)_


	5. Chapter Four

**_Town Portal Cht. 4  
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You fly through the twisting blue darkness that characterizes all Town Portals. Then it stops, and you fall to the ground in an undignified heap, skimpy green silk clothes falling all out of place.

You stand, thinking bad thoughts about the gods, and put your clothes back into place. Then you look around; you are back on the Blood Moor, and there are little imp-like things coming at you. Huh, you think, Fallen Ones are fodder. You prove yourself right when you burn them to ashes, one by one, with searing balls of fire. One of the pitiful creatures is so focused on you that it doesn't notice the screams of its fellows; you let it walk up to you. Then you swing out with your staff, and its skull caves in. Its body flies through the air and squishes to a stop at the base of a tree.

Ha-ha, you think, this is easy! Then you stop, and think, Hey, if I'm part Barbarian now, does that mean I can dual wield? You test your theory out by picking up a sword that one of the Fallen Ones dropped, a cracked and rusted scimitar. Then you reach for another dropped weapon, a flimsy and poorly-made dagger. You swing them around a bit. "Yes!" you shout in your new feminine voice, "I can dual wield!"

You stop. Hey, I can speak again, you think. And I sound so… Sorceress-ey. "Cool."

You turn and head back to the Rogue's Encampment. You walk to Akara. "Wonderful! You've resolved your conflict! Here, take those old things to Charsie and she'll give you some new equipment, free of charge this one time." "Thank you," you reply, mainly to hear yourself talk; I have such a neat voice, you think.

You drop your old weapons in the dirt before Charsie's lean-to. She looks up, smiles, and you make small talk for a minute. Then she goes to the back and brings out a long staff, a scimitar, and some light pieces of armor. You put it all on, then think, Hey, maybe I can be like Gandalf.

So you grip your scimitar and heft the staff, looking for the center of balance. You find it, then you twirl around, swinging the weapons. It is awkward at first, but you get a feel for it after a minute.

Then you hear the sound of a Portal, off near the fire. You run over, and you see…

_What? What do you see, Constant Reader? That's up to you. If you've ever wanted to mix it up, make your own piece of Sanctuary, here's your chance. However, a few rules:_

_1. No Assassin crosses. I want no psychic folk here in my fic. Martial arts is fine, but that's all._

_2. Nothing too extreme. I will be the judge of extreme._

_3. Only one skill tree can be replaced. Here's the formula: take a character class (not the assassin), choose a skill tree to get rid of, and then pick the skill tree to replace it with (no psychic skills). Then throw in any quirks, physical or psychological, and add them to your missive. Psychological quirks are your character's personality._

_4. No weird mental diseases, and no severe physical diseases either. Translation: no AIDS and no schizophrenia, or anything the likes of. Nothing outlandish or extreme; once again, I will judge extreme._

_5. Do not submit your missives by review. Send an email. If you have no email, tough._

_That's it, kiddies._


End file.
